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a forty-minute head start on the drinking, which was more of a head start than I’d intended when I’d sat down
He stood in the doorway for a moment, scanning the bar with the efficiency of someone who assessed spaces quickly, found me in the corner where I always sat, and crossed to the stool beside mine with the unhurried certainty of a man who’d decided the evening was going to require patience and had allocated it in advance.
He looked at the glass in front of me. Looked at the two empty glasses that the bartender hadn’t yet cleared. Looked at me.
“You started without me,” he said.
“I told you I was already here.”
“I assumed that meant you’d ordered and were waiting.” He settled onto the stool, nodded to the bartender, held up two fingers. “I didn’t assume it meant you’d had a head start that required two empty glasses.”
“Three. He took one already.”
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